Twelve Steps
by Jill-in-the-Box
Summary: Step by step, they're getting to where they need to be. A twelve-parter, now complete with epilogue, covering a year in the life of Castle and Beckett. Written during the winter hiatus of Season 3; now AU.
1. January

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Castle. The only profit being made is my own amusement (and hopefully yours).

**January**

In the middle of January he gets a call from Donna at the _Ledger_.

"Guess what? My editor says I can list you as eligible bachelor number six this year! When can you come in for your interview?"

He remembers years past, repeatedly checking his phone for any word from Donna, setting his alarm at 3 am to get the paper and see where he landed on the list. This time, he didn't even think about her or her column until she called. "I'm not really interested in being in the article this time," he tells her.

He can almost see her scrunching her forehead in confusion. Or maybe he's just imagining it, because it's something Beckett does a lot. "Why not?" she wants to know.

He can't really put his finger on _why not_. Because the interview will take time that could be better spent at the precinct? Because Donna will probably write something that will make Beckett upset and embarrass her? He settles for a reasonable explanation. "My daughter's growing up. She's got a boyfriend now. I want her to fall in love and be happy and all that. I don't want her to think that people are _numbers_, you know?" (And this is a half-truth, because yes, his baby girl is a woman now, and yes, it scares him how fast it happened, but he knows that Alexis had it all figured out long before he did.)

"Huh," Donna says, with a half chuckle. "Very sweet. And mature. Maturity is quite an asset. Are you trying to bargain with me to get the number one spot or something?"

"No. I don't want to be on your list. Really."

"Why not?"

"Why do you care?"

She laughs. "I'm just a curious cat, I guess," she says cheerfully. Pause. "Come _on,_ Rick," she whines, when he doesn't answer within a few seconds. "Tell me. Off the record. I won't say a word to anyone. Cross my heart. Pretty please?"

He chuckles and shakes his head. She sounds like _him _when he's pestering Beckett. He relents: "Okay, fine, off the record. There's someone."

(He's not thinking about Gina when he says it.)


	2. February

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Castle. The only profit being made is my own amusement (and hopefully yours).

******February**

On February 15th, Ryan comes in wearing his infamously horrendous tie. Castle makes a quip about how Beckett might have to arrest him for defacing the pristine landscape of New York, but Esposito, buddy that he is, understands at once what this is all about. He slaps Ryan on the back in congratulations and announces grand plans for the bachelor party. Castle volunteers the Old Haunt for the event and starts jotting down ideas for cocktails.

Throughout the entire conversation, Beckett plays with her mother's ring. She realizes that Johanna was _her_ age when she got married. Her mind is torn between _she was so young when she died_ and _I'm never going to find somebody at my age,_ and she hates herself for thinking of something so petty at the same time she should have been mourning her mother.

"You okay?" Castle asks her later, when they're alone in the break room. She's a bit unnerved about how _aware_ he is of her moods.

"Yeah," she replies with a shrug.

"Afraid you'll never get married?"

It's not one of his classic Castle jabs but an honest question, and she feels violated, unable to shake the feeling that he's read her mind. "I don't know," she mumbles, fiddling with the handle of her coffee mug. "I don't want to be one of those women who cuts out pictures from bridal magazines and I don't _want _to care about whether I get married or not, but yeah, I kind of do."

"I'm sure you'll find someone," he tells her. He purses his lips together in thought. "Would you marry Josh?" he asks quietly.

She rolls the question around in her mind for a moment. "I don't know," she answers finally, both to Castle and to herself. "I've never really thought about it."

She thinks about Josh for the rest of the day. One of their conversations in particular keeps replaying in her head:

"So why'd you become a cardiac surgeon?" she'd asked him.

"I caught the bug," he'd responded.

"The bug?"

"Yeah. The surgery bug. You know your schedule's going to suck and your wife is going to hate you and your kids will cry when you can't make it to their birthday parties. And you try other things." He'd laughed ruefully. "I mean, I tried to get myself to like dermatology and ophthalmology and all those fields that supposedly have better lifestyles. But at the end of the day, I couldn't see myself doing anything else but this."

And she decides it's the same with her. She's been passing time, first with Tom and now with Josh, but she knows that no matter who she ends up with, she'll never be able to get Richard Castle out of her head.


	3. March

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Castle. The only profit being made is my own amusement (and hopefully yours).

******March**

Of course a promise from Donna is just about as reliable as Alexis' promises to never ask for anything_ ever, ever again _if he'll only buy her a Hello Kitty lunchbox, or Star Wars lightsabers, or whatever she happens to want. He opens the gossip section of the _Ledger_ one morning to find pictures of Gina and him having dinner at a fancy restaurant. In one of the photographs he's wrestling with a crab leg, while Gina has both hands over her mouth in amusement.

Gina. Smart and beautiful and not at all the bitch he'd convinced everyone else—and himself—that she was. Most of the screaming arguments between them had been his own damn fault. Picking a fight over the doll with scary eyes, waking her up in the middle of the night after she'd had a long day at work because he thought it might be fun to go out for ice cream, breaking one of her expensive vases in a living-room lightsaber fight with Alexis after she'd specifically warned him to play someplace else. Sure, maybe she shouldn't have been so condescending when calling him out on his mistakes, but maybe he shouldn't have been so defensive, just as he'd gotten defensive about Beckett and her mother's case: _it's because you're afraid, isn't it?_

He feels nothing but guilt now—for fighting with Gina while they were married, for getting back together with Gina because Beckett was seeing someone else, for being with Gina but still having dreams about Beckett almost every night. He's had dreams about Beckett since the day he met her, mostly salacious fantasies involving Beckett with handcuffs or Beckett in leather or Beckett sparring with him in the precinct gym. But now the dreams are different. Now in his sleep he plays poker with her and her team, challenges her to lightsaber fights with Alexis joining in, makes drinks for her at the Old Haunt (with a cherry on top), and kisses her in interrogation rooms when no one's looking.

"I can't see you anymore," he tells Gina when she comes over that night.

She doesn't look surprised. "Okay."

"I'm sorry I wasted your time. A wonderful woman like you deserves better." He's only half-surprised to realize that he _means_ it.

Gina shakes her head. "You didn't waste my time," she says. "I'd just gotten dumped and I needed someone there."

"Glad I could help," he replies.

"I think I helped you too," she tells him. "I noticed that you grew up a little these past few months."

"Oh?" he says, with a raised eyebrow. "How so?"

"You actually apologize when you've been an ass."

"And you actually calmly tell me why I've been an ass, instead of screaming so loudly I can't understand the words."

She smiles. "I'm working on it."

Gina holds her hand out and he takes it without hesitation. They shake, one, two, three times, and then she pulls him toward her in a tight embrace, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"You know, Richard," she whispers, "you're going to make someone very happy someday."

(He wonders if Gina knows.)


	4. April

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Castle. The only profit being made is my own amusement (and hopefully yours).

**************April**

One morning in April he comes in to find bright orange flyers plastered all over the precinct. As if the radioactive-pumpkin color wasn't offensive enough, the papers scream, in bold capital letters, "Come support the Eagles in their first-ever league championship game! See Coach Tom Demming for free tickets!" Below that is a picture of Demming, tank top showing off his muscles and wide smile showing off his perfectly straight teeth, surrounded by teenage boys who look absolutely thrilled to be in his presence. He knows it's been almost a year since _no flag on the play_, and things are more than over between Beckett and Demming, and she's involved with someone else now. But he can still see that kiss in the hallway, still hear her giggling at her desk, and the surge of annoyance comes back just as strong as before. He's glad Beckett's not there to hear him mumble "Oh, geez," and see him rip one of the posters from the elevator wall.

Demming actually shows up after lunch while Castle's relaxing in his chair, looking up knock-knock jokes on his phone and interrupting Beckett's paperwork to repeat them to her. Demming's holding a stack of tickets in that same god-awful orange and scanning the room. Castle's pretty sure he'll avoid them, awkward history with Beckett and all, but apparently Tom Demming is so awesome that he isn't affected by awkward. To Castle's dismay, he heads straight to Beckett's desk and flashes that _smile. _"Oh, hey," she greets him, trying to sound casual.

He waves the tickets at her. "Will you come support the Eagles, Kate?"

_Kate_. Damn.

"And you, Castle? You look like you might be a fan of basketball."

And now Demming's talking to him like they should be _friends_? He'd like to tell Demming to go back downstairs where he belongs, that he doesn't have to keep _bragging _that he's such a great guy with all this charity work, that he can't get anyone to go to a stupid game just because he has a perfect suit and perfect teeth and perfect hair. But Beckett's biting her lip and giving Castle a sideways glance now, as if she's dreading his next action.

And he realizes he doesn't want Beckett expecting the worst of him. He decides it's time to act like a grown up. He gives Beckett a small nod. She smiles.

"We'd love to," she tells Demming.

"Just two?" Demming asks.

"One for me," Castle says, hoping that this translates into _just so you know, I broke up with Gina and I was thinking this could be a date_.

She doesn't get the hint. "Wait, let me check," Beckett says, pushing a few buttons on her phone, and Castle knows she's looking over Josh's call schedule. "Yeah," she says at last with a sigh. "Just two."

Demming raises his eyebrows but gives Beckett the tickets, reminding her to get there early and get front-row seats, and thanking her and Castle for supporting this _fabulous cause. _Castle's annoyed with Demming and even more annoyed with Josh, but he doesn't stay that way for long, because her words start echoing in his head.

We'd love to. _We_.

He could get used to this.


	5. May

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Castle. The only profit being made is my own amusement (and hopefully yours).

**************May**

On Memorial Day weekend, Castle invites the whole team out to the Hamptons for Alexis' graduation party. Josh isn't there; he has yet another full day of surgeries scheduled.

The water looks incredibly inviting, but she's a bit uncomfortable with the thought of him studying her in her bathing suit, finding the tiny tattoo on her hip that only her boyfriends have seen. So they sit on the sand under Ryan's rainbow umbrella (Ryan, of course, insists that Jenny picked it out). As Castle not-so-subtly keeps a careful eye on what Alexis and Ashley are doing in the waves, they chat about their favorite childhood memories of the beach. All of a sudden Castle asks, casual as can be, "So how's this compared to Asbury?"

She keeps forgetting how much he does and doesn't know about what happened with Tom. She knows he's fishing for information, so she answers, very carefully, "We ended up not going."

He looks surprised and a bit unsure of how to respond. "Oh. Too bad. Work?"

"Yeah." It's technically true. She _had_ worked all weekend after he'd left her standing there in the hallway, completely humiliated and heartbroken. She refuses to tell him that she'd ended it with Tom just several minutes earlier; it isn't really fair that she should have to be the one to make the first step _twice_. And after all, she thinks, she's already given him enough hints—codes and riddles about some apple cart and _he'll only let you down._

Later that afternoon they'll be strolling along the shore. He'll pick her up, bridal-style, and toss her into the waves, T-shirt and shorts and flip-flops and all. She'll threaten to shoot him but honestly, this is what she meant when she talked about feeling alive.


	6. June

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Castle. The only profit being made is my own amusement (and hopefully yours).

******************************June**

It's 12:18 AM when Beckett finally leaves the precinct, thanks to a poker game (with a wholesale-sized package of gummy bears that Castle brought to use as chips). She feels a little guilty for not getting back early on her boyfriend's night off, but the prospect of playing cards with Castle had seemed far more appealing than watching a zombie movie with Josh's arm around her waist.

She has to work early the next morning and it's raining so hard that the windshield wipers on the cab can barely keep up, so she gets off at Josh's apartment instead of going the extra distance to her own place. She lets herself in (Josh had given her a key) and quietly slips into bed.

"Where've you been?" she hears Josh say as soon as her head touches the pillow.

"Precinct," she replies, which is true, but she knows that it's still a lie.

Josh turns to face her, resting his palm on her shoulder. "Can I ask you something?"

She shrugs. "Why not?"

"Where do you see us in five years?"

She knows where he's going with this, and she tries to stall. "Well, I'll still be at the 12th solving crime and you'll still be at New York General saving lives. I mean, I _could _have a mid-life crisis and go to medical school and steal all of your patients."

(Oh, _god_, did she really just pull a Richard Castle and deflect a serious discussion with a joke?)

"You _would _look pretty hot with a stethoscope," Josh shoots back, grinning. "But really. What I meant was, where do you see _us_? As in you and me?"

"I try not to think too far ahead," she says. "Like we decided, remember?"

"Look, I know you said you were getting over someone and I said I didn't have time for anything serious. But what if I've changed my mind? What if I _do _want something serious?" He stops touching her shoulder to rub his temples with his fingers, obviously frustrated. "I know I'm a workaholic and I'm sorry about Memorial Day weekend, but I _really_ have been trying to take on fewer cases so I can spend more time with you. And I see you getting out of bed early in the morning or at some ungodly hour at night because Castle has some crazy theory, or going out drinking with the guys on Saturday, or staying to work past midnight like you did today, and I can't help wondering if this relationship doesn't mean as much to you as it does to me."

"Josh," she begins.

He places a finger against her lips. "Shh," he whispers. "No rush, no pressure. It's just something you should keep in the back of your mind if this is going to work out between us." He moves his hand to her back, draws her in close, tucks her head under his chin. "Now go to sleep. You've had a long day."

She sighs and snuggles against his chest. He smells of aftershave and the freshly laundered scrubs that he wears as pajamas. With his arms around her, she feels safely shielded from the thunderstorm outside, but she already knows what she's going to tell him in the morning.


	7. July

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Castle. The only profit being made is my own amusement (and hopefully yours).

**************************************************************July**

"Fourth of July party," Castle announces one night, as Beckett is stacking manila folders on her desk and returning her pens to their proper container. "Roof of my apartment building. Food and alcoholic beverages provided. Clothing optional."

She rolls her eyes and says, "Sounds like fun. Except the part where I might have to arrest you for indecent exposure."

"Or give me a medal," he retorts, earning him another eye-roll. "Josh should come, too," he offers.

(He's noticed that Beckett gets this _look _on her face, half-surprised and half-delighted, whenever he makes an effort to be civil to her former or current lovers. Like that day he signed the card that Esposito bought to congratulate Demming's basketball team. Or the time he shook Josh's hand and told a joke about why surgeons love operating on lawyers. He thinks it's a good way of proving his maturity to Beckett.)

This time, though, she looks more uncomfortable than pleased. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She bites her lip for a second before blurting out, "Josh and I aren't seeing each other anymore."

His initial delight that Beckett is single again is quickly replaced by concern that she might have had her heart broken. "Did he... do anything to hurt you?"

"No, no, nothing like that." There's a sigh, a shrug, a shift of her weight from one high-heeled boot to the other. "It just wasn't right."

He's curious, so curious about what she means exactly, but he resists the temptation to pry. So he settles on saying, "Welcome to the singles club."

"The singles club?" Beckett scoffs. "The last time I checked, Ryan was engaged, Esposito's been sneaking off early and smiling all day like he's finally getting lucky, and you—"

"Gina and I are done," he interrupts her.

"Oh." The awkwardness returns to her expression, her eyes darting as she turns a little red and plays with the sleeves of her black leather jacket. "Sorry. I didn't know."

"No, it's fine. It's been a few months now, actually. It wasn't going anywhere, but at least we don't want to kill each other anymore." She chuckles a little. "_You're_ okay, though"—he fights the urge to call her by her first name—"Beckett?"

"Yeah, of course. I've got you, and Esposito and Ryan and Lanie and Maddy and a lot of other people. Your friends never go away."

He can think of nothing except _we made a deal Castle and I expect you to honor it_ and _I thought this would be our last case _and _go back to your Hamptons_. She's apparently having the same idea, because she looks straight at him with those bright green eyes and adds, "Or sometimes they do go away, but they always come back."

He and Beckett are friends. He's always known this, of course, but somehow hearing her say it out loud makes it more real. She takes a step toward him and, to his surprise, wraps her arms around his shoulders. It's not the same as the impulsive, adrenaline-driven hug she'd given him when they'd unearthed the stolen jewels; this embrace is a long and deliberate squeeze.

Castle stays awake for most of the night, remembering the scent of cherries and the softness of her hair against his neck, and trying to convince himself that she had paused for just a split second after _I've got you_.


	8. August

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Castle. The only profit being made is my own amusement (and hopefully yours).

**************************************************************August**

In August, she finally finds a place with affordable rent that isn't some cranky old lady's guest room. She's just started assembling her new bed when the doorbell rings.

She opens the door to discover Castle, holding a large box under one arm and a tray containing two cups of iced coffee in the other. "What are you doing here?" she demands.

"Esposito mentioned that you were moving. I thought you could use some help."

She's never been one to ask for favors and she's still uncomfortable with the thought of him weaseling his way into her life, so her first instinct is to snap _I don't need your help _at him. Still, she knows he's been making an effort to be more serious when the situation requires it, so in return she feels compelled to accept his gestures of friendship. Stepping away from the door to let him in, she says, "Yeah, thanks. You could give me a hand with setting up the bed."

"And then we could put it to good use," he suggests, with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"In your dreams, Castle," she replies, feeling the heat rising to her cheeks because it _has_ happened in _her_ dreams—more than once. She's pretty sure that he's perceptive enough to sense her embarrassment, so to distract him, she clears her throat and asks, "What's in the box?"

"Some of the finest pieces of literature ever written," he announces, as he lifts the lid of the box.

"I don't remember studying Derrick Storm or Nikki Heat in my literature class," she jokes, reaching for one of the coffee drinks. It's prepared just the way she likes it. She's not surprised at all.

"No, real literature," he insists, pushing a volume into her hands. She glances at it. Shakespeare. He continues unloading the box. Dickens. Tolstoy. Hardy. "I got them at a used bookstore," Castle says. "I'll take you there sometime."

"Wow, thanks," is all she manages to say at first. "This is one of my favorites," she tells him, picking up a copy of _Pride and Prejudice._

"Aw," Castle teases. "Detective Kate Beckett is a fan of something containing"—he lets out a dramatic gasp—"a _love story_?"

"Dirty little secret," she says. "I'm actually a sucker for a good, old-fashioned romance."

For a minute she half expects him to say something along the lines of _well Beckett, my idea of a dirty little secret is you telling me that you were a stripper back in college_. Instead, he murmurs, "That makes two of us," in such a low voice that she's not sure whether he's talking about literature or real life.

"Oh, really? Richard Castle, a hopeless romantic?"

"Sure. Used to be, at least before I met Kyra." He pauses, looking thoughtful, as if he's never analyzed his thoughts about love before. "Then she left me and I decided that I wasn't going to get my heart broken again. So I decided to go out and just have fun. Enjoy lots and lots of deep-fried twinkies."

"Gina's not a deep-fried twinkie," Beckett muses.

"No, she's not," Castle agrees immediately.

"So what were you looking for with her?" She realizes how demanding she sounds, but she needs to know; if she doesn't understand his motivations, she'll never understand _him_, and she needs to understand him if she's ever going to be able to trust him with her heart.

"The first time, we got along really well when we were dating, so I thought by getting married I would set a good example for Alexis. I was pretty good about keeping all the deep-fried twinkies away from her, but Mother was always around talking about her boyfriend of the month, and I wanted to show her that normal people do settle down and live happily ever after." He laughs then, sounding less merry than remorseful. "So much for setting a good example. I didn't know how to be mature, how to compromise."

"And the second time?"

He thinks for a while before saying, "I think it started when you got together with Demming. I started wanting what you two had. I know you broke up and everything, but you get the idea. I wanted another shot at it. Being happy. Being with someone for more than a day or a week or whatever." He shrugs. "The possibility of being with them forever."

It's the first time he's ever spoken candidly to her about what he wants in a relationship. And in that moment she doesn't see the playboy, his two divorces, and his countless flirtations and flings. She sees the father who stopped visiting his favorite bar to take care of his little girl, the friend who ran into a burning building to save her, and the man who just might want the same thing she does. She's so lost in her thoughts that when her mind finally returns to their conversation, she realizes he's been saying something.

"What about you?" Castle repeats.

"What about me what?"

"What are _you_ looking for?"

"Someone who makes me feel alive," she says, and she hopes that he knows what she means.


	9. September

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Castle. The only profit being made is my own amusement (and hopefully yours).

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************September**

The fact that they're both single again, coupled with the newfound knowledge that Castle is willing to work for a serious romance, leads Beckett to resume the flirting that she'd tried (and utterly failed) to suppress when Gina and Josh were still around.

She puts her hair into a bun and takes it out of the bun more than necessary, aware that he likes watching her twist her brown waves with her fingers and loves seeing it fall back over her shoulders. She adds an extra swing to her hips when she knows he's walking right behind her. And her favorite tease of all, whenever he mixes her a drink at the Old Haunt, she asks for a cherry and makes a tantalizing show out of eating it.

He makes more attempts than ever to invade her personal space, and for the first time, she isn't concerned about how much she enjoys it. His fingers brush hers—deliberately, she knows—as he's handing her a cup of coffee, causing a pleasurable ache to travel up her arm and below her ribs. He comes too close when he's peering over her shoulder to read a file, close enough that she can feel his breath on her neck, close enough that sometimes all she can think about is reaching for his tie and pulling his mouth to hers. One day, Demming gets onto the elevator as they're riding down to head to a crime scene. They'd been standing side by side, touching at the hips and shoulders; Demming stares at them but she doesn't move away.

A year ago, if anyone had asked her if she and Castle were together, her answer would have been an emphatic _no_.

Now, she knows, the only correct answer is _not yet_.


	10. October

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Castle. The only profit being made is my own amusement (and hopefully yours).

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************October**

He calls Alexis for the second time since breakfast, with the same result. _Hi, this is Alexis. I can't come to the phone right now, but please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can_.

Beckett walks by with two white cups from the espresso machine, placing one in front of him. "When's the last time you talked to her?"

He doesn't bother asking how she knows who he's calling. "8:15 this morning," he admits, somewhat sheepishly.

She lets out a little chuckle. "It's Monday morning. She's probably sitting in a lecture hall right now," she reassures him.

"Probably. But I still worry. The temptations of college. Cutting class. Late-night parties. Alcohol. Random hookups with random people." He cringes at the last thought.

"That might be _your_ college experience and _my _college experience, Castle," she laughs. He's intrigued, and he makes a mental note to extract the juicy stories from her later. "But Alexis is a good kid. You know she'll always do the responsible thing."

"I know," he admits. "But there _is_ a point to calling anyway. You know, show people how much you care."

She looks a bit hurt. "Why didn't you call me when you were away last summer?"

He wants to tell her that he had picked up the phone so many times, but was afraid that Demming might answer, or that she might tell him that she and Demming had gotten serious and she'd rather not hear from him again. But he's not quite so sure that she's ready to hear it, so he decides to give her part of the truth. "Demming's a decent guy. I got the feeling that he was jealous with me around, so I tried to stay out of the way. I didn't want to mess up a good thing for you." She nods, seeming to accept his explanation. "Why didn't _you_ call?"

"Same reason you didn't call me. You were with Gina."

"Gina and I were never going to work out."

"I didn't know that."

He laughs. "Fair enough. I didn't either, at first. For a little while I thought it was possible to make a good relationship with anyone if I worked at it enough." And suddenly he finds that he can't restrain himself; he's felt so comfortable with the way they've been so honest with each other lately that he doesn't want to stop now. "I kind of realized I don't want to do the whole _love the one you're with _thing anymore. I'd rather be alone if I can't be with the one I love."

He hears her sharp intake of breath. "The one you love?" she asks, so softly that it's almost a whisper.

No more evading her serious questions with witty remarks, no more pretending that he doesn't need a one-and-done, no more praising Nikki Heat when he really means _her_. "Yeah," he says. "You."

Her green eyes widen in surprise. He holds his breath and feels his heart twisting in his chest as he waits for her response. It's the same sensation of excitement mixed with fear that he'd felt as he watched Alexis being born, the same amazing knowledge that his life might change in a single moment. The only difference was that with Alexis, he'd known she'd be his daughter forever. With Kate, he has no idea if his confession will be their beginning or their end.

She speaks at last. "Same with me," she says. "I mean... you're the real reason why I broke up with Josh." She fidgets with her mom's ring and pauses and adds, "And why I broke up with Tom."

It's what he wanted to hear, but his heart is still pounding and he still can't breathe; he can hardly believe that she's been in love with him for about the same time that he's been in love with her. He very much wants to grab her and kiss her right then and there, slow and sweet and _serious_, but they're sitting in the middle of the bullpen and based on the way she reacted to Josh's unannounced arrivals, he knows she hates having her private life compromised at work. He settles on reaching over and taking her hand, the way she'd taken his that night by the pool.

"So now what?" she asks, intently studying their joined hands on her desk, as if she can't comprehend what just happened.

"So now I take you to dinner and to the theater. We take long walks in the park. We have movie nights with Mother and Alexis when she's home. We wear matching costumes for Halloween. And you be my date to the Ryan/Duffy-O'Malley wedding. What do you say?"

She smiles at him, almost shyly, then pulls away from his grasp and lightly taps both palms on her desk. "I say that right now we go to Remy's for their lunchtime hamburger special."

"An excellent idea, Detective," he says, standing up and holding out his hand to her. "I'd be honored to buy you a strawberry milkshake."

She takes his offered arm, and as he leads her out of the precinct, he notices her playing with a lock of her hair.


	11. November

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Castle. The only profit being made is my own amusement (and hopefully yours).

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************November**

The next few weeks are filled with picnics and trips to the museum on her days off, long phone conversations after work, shoulder massages when they're alone in the break room, and stolen kisses in the backs of cabs.

He never pressures her to stay after she has dinner at his apartment; she doesn't invite him in when he drops her off at night. At first she can't put her finger on exactly why she's holding out on him. She's never been a prude, never had a problem with sleeping with someone after several dates as long as she likes him enough. Eventually she realizes that _this_ is precisely the reason. Her normal pattern is to go out and go to bed with guys first, and only sometimes fall in love with them afterward. This time she's already in love, and doing things the other way around makes her feel especially vulnerable, makes her feel that there's more at stake than usual.

When Castle asks her to dance at Ryan and Jenny's wedding, she tries to ignore the stares of Lanie and Esposito as she follows him to the floor. Their bodies aren't touching, except for their joined hands and her hand on his shoulder and his hand on her waist, yet she imagines that she feels little sparks radiating from him, into her chest and into the pit of her stomach. Her dress isn't quite as revealing as the one he gave her for that charity event, but she still feels exposed, because she wants him but is scared of it, and she knows everyone in the room can see it.

She's pondering the least awkward way to ask him to spend the night when he suddenly says, "I need you to come over to my place later."

She feels herself blushing and wonders how he managed to figure out her line of thought.

It's Castle's turn to look embarrassed. "That's not what I meant," he adds quickly. "Alexis is home for the weekend. She wants to talk to you."

"What about?"

"She wouldn't say." Castle looks worried. "You'll tell me, right?"

"Only if it's okay with Alexis."

He opens his mouth to protest. "But—"

"No buts, Castle. Remember last time she asked me for advice and you got all worked up for no reason?"

His forehead wrinkles even more. "It's different this time. Something's really bothering her."

"Do you trust Alexis?"

"Absolutely."

Beckett knows how protective Castle is of Alexis, how he and his daughter are closer than she's ever been to her own father. Now she wonders if he'll ever fully welcome her into such an important part of his life. Taking a deep breath, she ventures, "Do you trust _me_?"

"Of course."

"Then let me talk to her and let her decide what she wants to let you know. Okay?"

He's quiet for a long time, as if he's fighting an urge to object. "Okay," he agrees at last.

She smiles. "I'll try to get her to talk to you. You can count on me."

"I know." He smiles back. "Now let me show you some of my best dance moves."

She has to concentrate to keep up when he leads, and for all the running she does in high heels, she still stumbles when he tries to twirl her. "I'm not used to this," she says with a laugh, as she collides against his chest.

He puts both hands on her arms to steady her, and she's thinking of that day in the shooting range, her hands guiding his as he aims at the target.

"We'll get there," he says solemnly, and she can tell by his tone that he's not talking about dancing anymore. He's talking about _them_, what they are now and what they might be one day.

She looks up to meet his eyes, serious but still with a glimmer of that Castle spark that she's come to know and love. "Yes," she whispers in agreement, so that only he can hear, "we will."


	12. December

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Castle. The only profit being made is my own amusement (and hopefully yours).

**************December**

"Why, Detective Beckett," he teases, as she's lying blissfully exhausted in his arms for the first time, "I never guessed you'd be so _talented_."

This earns him a gentle punch on the bicep. He remembers a time he saw Alexis swatting at Ashley the same way, and then he remembers how meeting Ashley's parents was such a huge step in his daughter's relationship. He kisses Beckett's forehead and, trying to sound as casual as if he were suggesting a movie and popcorn, asks, "So are we going to your dad's for Christmas?"

Beckett's content expression instantly turns into a nervous one, and she scoots away from him and pulls the covers up to her chest. "He's fixing up his place, so it's probably a mess."

"We could invite him here to meet Mother and Alexis."

"I don't think he likes huge gatherings."

"Five people is not huge," he points out. "And I thought you said your new year's resolution was going to be spending more time with your dad."

"It isn't the new year yet, is it, Castle?"

Directness has worked for him lately with her, so he tries it again. "No, but I thought we could get an early start. You know, introduce us and everything."

She looks down, her fingers tracing the wrinkles in the sheets, and shrugs but doesn't say anything in response. He knows what this is about; it's about the trust that he's spent months trying to build with her, the trust he's still not sure he's earned. "Look," he tells her, "I know you don't want to do the whole meet-the-parents thing because you're still afraid I'll leave you when the next pretty girl comes around."

Her hands pause in midair; it tells him that he's perfectly put her doubts into words.

"I can't make you any promises," he continues. "No one can. Sure, I've screwed up before, but I know _why_ I screwed up, and I'm going to try my best to not let it happen again. But you need to try too. You need to give me a chance."

She doesn't appear completely convinced, but she does take a deep breath and meet his eyes at last. "Okay. I'll call him today."

As they lie there in silence, he marvels at how much progress they've made in the past twelve months and contemplates how much work they'll have to do in the coming weeks and years—no, the coming _lifetime_.

She soon begins speaking again. "So I never got around to asking you. What's your new year's resolution?"

He reaches out a hand and entwines her fingers in his. "I don't know. Start a pool on Lanie and Esposito, because we _know_ something's going on or about to." (She grins and high-fives him with her free hand in response.) "Write more steamy love scenes in the next Nikki Heat novel." (She rolls her eyes but she's still smiling.) "Stop checking in with Alexis every three hours." (Laughter.) "Show you how much I love you."

"Hmm," she murmurs. And Kate Beckett is usually not one to play cute-and-coy, so it's completely _adorable_ when she raises an eyebrow and singsongs, "And just how much do you love me?"

He leans over, presses his lips against her earlobe, and whispers, "You have no idea."

**FIN.**

**_Author's note:_**_ The story is complete as is, but there is an epilogue to follow. As someone who wishes that the epilogue of Harry Potter never ever happened, I thought I'd give you fair warning: fluff and nonsense ahead._


	13. Epilogue: January

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Castle. The only profit being made is my own amusement (and hopefully yours).

**Epilogue: January**

"You work on _weekends_ now?" Richard demands as soon as he picks up the phone.

Donna suddenly wishes she hadn't chosen to take her vacation in the two weeks before her big article is due. "Sorry. Is this a bad time?"

"No, it's okay. Just keep it quick. Sunday brunch with the family," he explains.

"Mmm," Donna says absently. "That's nice."

In the background, she hears someone singing and playing the theme of _Guys and Dolls_ at the piano. She can also make out a woman's voice, saying something like, "Alexis, can you pass me the eggs? And Dad, I think the bacon's almost ready." (This confuses her a little; Richard's never mentioned having a sister or a father.)

"I'm sorry about Gina," Donna begins.

"How did you know about that? Oh, that's right. I remember reading your article. She's seeing Dr. Michaels from _Mostly Medical_—Jonathan Taylor, right?"

"Yep, Jonathan Taylor. The hottest television doctor _ever_. He's got nothing on you, Richard, of course," Donna adds quickly.

Richard laughs. "I'm not so sure about that. Mother put up posters of him in her bedroom. I think she's planning on robbing the cradle."

The piano stops abruptly and Donna can hear someone shouting an indignant "Hey!"

Richard continues, sounding especially animated, "And my friend—she actually dated a surgeon, you know, and she says—"

She doesn't get to hear this friend's opinion on the handsome Jonathan Taylor, because Richard's suddenly yelling, "Apples! Apples!"

(Donna is relatively certain this outburst has nothing to do with the Sunday brunch menu, but she decides not to ask.)

"So," she says, when he finally quiets down, "new year, new eligible bachelor list. Best offer: number four. What do you say?"

"You can take me out of your phone book," he tells her, sounding more cheerful than she's ever heard him before. "_P__ermanently_."

**FIN (really).**

_**Author's note:** Thank you to everyone who's been following this story and especially to those who took the time to review. I'm so flattered by your words of encouragement and hope that you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! If you liked my work, I strongly recommend checking out the Castle pieces on my Favorites list. My dream is to one day be as talented as these authors—every single story is beautifully written and proofread, shows instead of tells, features great banter, and explores character relationships in a plausible way, and all except one or two are complete._


End file.
